


A Heart Never Lies

by Ashhlys



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Parent Donald Uris, Bill Denbrough Loves Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough Stutters, Bottom Stanley Uris, Child Neglect, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Gay Bill Denbrough, Gay Sex, Georgie Denbrough Lives, Happy Ending, I Tried, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mentioned Beverly Marsh, Mentioned Sonia Kaspbrak, Minor Stanley Uris/Beverly Marsh, No Angst, No Underage Sex, Pansexual Stanley Uris, Phobias, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Rimming, Romance, Stanley Uris Has OCD, Stanley Uris Has PTSD, Stanley Uris Loves Bill Denbrough, Therapy, Top Bill Denbrough, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26543491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashhlys/pseuds/Ashhlys
Summary: Two completely strangers meet under a tree and bond over their past and traumas(I'm not good at writing summaries, forgive me).
Relationships: Bill Denbrough & Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	1. Was the High Worth the Pain?

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this mini-Stenbrough Fanfiction because I don't think people appreciate this pair enough. And if you're sensitive to implied and explained mental disorder(s), please proceed at your own risk. It's not anything major and only gets mentioned in the beginning but it still might be triggering to some viewers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, welcome friends!
> 
> Before you go ahead and start reading the chapter, the beginning contains a few mental disorders and their definitions. It's nothing major or graphic but some viewers might be triggered by them.
> 
> Please do proceed with caution and enjoy!

_Four white walls._ Four white walls were all it took to capture the boy. It was boring and even a tad irritating the situation he was in. He wanted out.

The teen tilted his head down to the paper that had been slid towards him on the table, making his hair pour down his forehead, covering his beautifully honey coloured but still somehow dull-looking eyes, creating a thin curtain between the outside world that consisted of his therapist and himself.

It was mostly blank, just a few all capital letters littering the upper half of the white sheet. He guessed what they could be even before he took a good look at the therapist’s handwriting. They were the names of a few disorders and their definitions. He rolled his eyes on instinct, looking up at the woman that was staring at him with expectant eyes. He groaned loudly, sighing as he looked back at the paper, starting to read his “diagnoses”.

“I really didn’t want to do it this way, trust me.” She mumbled with an apologetic tone, studying the boy as he blankly stared at the paper, praying he _was_ actually reading them over.

-PTSD (Posttraumatic Stress Disorder,): A set of reactions that can occur after someone has been through a traumatic event. The chance of developing PTSD depends on the type of event experienced and reliving that event can/might cause mild stress, unwanted memories and vivid nightmares.

-OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder): Having a tendency towards excessive orderliness, perfectionism, and great attention to detail.

-Paranoia: A mental condition characterized by delusions of persecution, unwarranted jealousy, or unjustified suspicion and mistrust towards the ones around self.

-Anxiety: An emotion characterized by feelings of tension, worried thoughts and physical changes (example: increased blood pressure). People with anxiety disorders usually have recurring intrusive thoughts or concerns. They may avoid certain situations out of worry.

-Depression: A psychological disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness and loss of interest. Also called major depressive disorder or clinical depression, it affects how you feel, think and behave and can lead to a variety of emotional and physical problems. Depression is _not_ something to be taken lightly and self should avoid any toxic environments/people that may affect them negatively.

-Repression: Repression is the psychological attempt to direct one's own desires and impulses towards pleasurable instincts by excluding them from one's consciousness and holding or subduing them in the unconscious, objecting they exist. This act may cause other problems in the future.

Stan raised one eyebrow as he read over the paper, not bothering to even spare a look at the definitions. He was familiar with some of them but seeing so many disorders written down made him anxious. _Fuck_ , he thought, his eyes darting back up towards a specific one of them. _Well, I guess that’s confirmed._

“What do you think, Mr Uris?”

“Stanley.” He said, his voice cold, despising his last name with all his might from inside. The therapist slowly nodded, apologising to the teen before she took her glasses off, sighing softly. She was really worried about him.

“I recommend try attending group therapy, Stanley.” She spoke up again after a moment of pure silence between them, highlighting the boy’s name to show her respect towards his wishes.

“You need social interaction with your age. It might help you more than you could ever imagine.”

“For some reason, I really doubt that.” He mumbled, shaking his head.

“Stanley.” She said sternly, her subtle frown turning into a sad smile as she sighed, placing a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes.

“I’m trying to help you, Stanley, not make you worse. I don’t have to do this. But I still am trying to get you open up to me. And I’m doing this only for you. Do you know why?”

“Why?” He asked dryly, choking on his word, avoiding her gentle gaze, making the therapist sigh before smiling again.

“Because you’re such a brilliant kid with a bright future waiting ahead. I don’t ever want you to give up on that. I want to help you. I want you to understand you’re allowed to feel everything you feel. You deserve to understand there’s nothing wrong with you.”

Stan didn’t say anything to that, he just nodded slowly and took the paper before standing up and stepping towards the door of the woman’s office. He grabbed the door knob with his trembling hand, opened the door, waited for a moment before turning back to her. He hesitated but gave her a small but still sincere smile then walked out of there, slowly closing the door behind him.

The moment he was out, he let out a deep sigh and started walking down the street, looking down at the paper in his hand. He stopped walking after taking a few steps and concentrated on folding the paper, trying to get the edges on top of one another perfectly and smiled proudly at his work before carefully slipped it into his jacket’s inner pocket, fixing his shirt’s collar until he was satisfied.

He started his walk again and didn’t stop again before he reached his destination, examining his surroundings before entering the park. He looked around a bit as he got closer to the tree he was looking for; trying to spot anyone he was familiar with, nodding with satisfaction when he couldn’t see anyone at all. His left hand slid down and took a small bag from his cuffed jeans’ pocket and quickly moved under the tree, being covered by the cut off branches of it.

He took his jacket and put it on the ground, minding the paper in the pocket and sat down on it to avoid getting his jeans dirty. He adjusted his back against the tree until he was completely comfortable and took a joint from the plastic bag and carefully placed it back into his back pocket, lit it and took a long, satisfying drag from it, holding the smoke in a bit before exhaling it through his nostrils. He took another drag and smiled as he felt his lungs fill with the grey smoke, getting ready to exhale it.

“E-Ex-Excuse muh-me-”

“Shit!”

Stan flinched and jumped back at the sudden, quiet voice he heard from his right side, nearly dropping his joint from his hand. He started to cough loudly as the smoke went to the wrong direction as the teen lowered his hand and pressed his palm to the ground to prevent the joint from being seen and getting it damaged.

His wide, teary eyes turned to the voice once he was done coughing, his gaze meeting with the most beautiful face he had ever seen. There stood a boy probably his age with a fiery ginger hair that had burning golden strands among the red ocean, his greenish blue eyes looking back at Stan with a look he didn’t quite understand, then finally his plump pink lips that he suddenly felt an urge to lean over and kiss them until they turned a bright red instead.

“U-Uh, h-is tuh-there some-suh-something on muh-my face?” The boy stuttered out with wide eyes that made the blues in the green orbs stand out more, making Stan want to kiss him more, _just_ to see how much more they could widen.

Stan swallowed thickly, opening his mouth to answer him but the hotness he felt burning the skin between and over his two fingers that once held his newly-lit joint that had burned down to the butt now, the hot ashes touching his bare fingers.

“Fuck! Shit, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He cried out with pain seething from his voice, throwing the joint away and finally getting rid of the source of his burning agony, taking a hold of his wrist with his other hand and starting to blow air to the burning skin of his fingers.

_Just how long had he been staring to make the joint burn to the very bottom?_

He flinched again when unsure, hesitant fingers wrapped around his hand that had a hold of his wrist, those wide eyes burning into Stan’s golden orbs with such overwhelming worry. The teen swallowed visibly before gathering the courage speaking up once more.

“C-Cuh-Can I suh-see?”

Stan nodded, almost dazed, and released his hand, already forgetting just how much his fingers throbbed and burned until he looked down and saw the irritated red patches covering the base of his fingers.

“Wuh-We n-nuh-need to aph-apply suh-sum-something cold t-to them.”

“Well, I sure don’t see anything that can help.” Stan replied more harshly than he had originally intended, hating being the reason the ginger boy lowered his head as a sad look flashed in his eyes, gulping loudly.

“Uh-I… I, um…”

He stuttered even more now, making Stan feel even guiltier about his non-intended anger. For some reason he wanted this strange boy to smile all the time even though he had never seen him smile. But Stan had a feeling that if he ever saw him smile, it might as well be the end of him.

The teen gently released Stan’s wrist and shuffled back behind the tree trunk, returning to Stan’s side with an apologetic smile and a dark blue school bag in his hands, staring up at the curly-haired boy.

“I huh-have a suh-so-soda that wuh-we cuh-could use.”

Stan furrowed his eyebrows as he thought then nodded slowly; holding his fingers that needed attention for the teen to hold the cold can against his skin. It burned even worse at first but then the relaxing feeling of the coldness wrapped him. Letting out a content sigh, he rested the back of his head against the trunk, completely unaware of the lingering gaze that belonged to a pair of blue eyes on him, silently admiring his profile.

Stan was handsome, the teen couldn’t deny that. He liked the way his curls’ brown colour lightened up to a warm blond, gently framing the sharp features of his face. He had multiple beauty marks all around his face, a pointy nose and well-shaped, a tad chapped lips that carried a pale pink colour. _They looked kissable._

“Would you help me with something?”

Stan suddenly spoke up, making the ginger boy flinch this time, slightly moving the cold can against his irritated skin. Stan hissed with pain, narrowing his eyes at the beautiful teen that he realised he couldn’t really get angry at. He had to pretend to be irritated since he didn’t know how else he should react to the brand new feelings he had for him-if he even had some-.

“Now you have to do that, hurting me twice in a row.” He joked(?), watching the teen’s face fall once more, groaning internally.

“O-O-Okay.” Stan smiled at him, pointing at his pocket with his chin as he held the can against his fingers.

“Could you check my back pocket and take one from the bag? And don’t forget to light it please. The lighter should be out on the grass.”

The ginger boy didn’t hesitate to push his hands into Stan’s jeans’ pocket when he raised his hips to the air to give him more space, trying to prevent himself from getting groped by accident in the process.

The teen’s eyes grew wide when he saw what was in the plastic bag, taking two joints from it with a pleased smile and shoved the bag back into Stan’s pocket; accidentally poking him and making him flinch. His smile widened just a tad as his eyes searched for the lighter on the ground, grabbed it and lit the two joints, placing one between Stan’s lips, taking the other one for himself.

Stan watched the teen take long drags from it without coughing or showing any signs of discomfort with a surprised stare, he let out a “huh” sound and took one drag from his own. Placing the soda can down, he pressed his fingers to the side of it as his free hand grabbed the joint, exhaling the smoke as perfect circles.  
His eyes then found the teen that sat beside him silently, watching him shift his from and adjust himself against the tree, letting one of his hands fall down to the ground, nearly touching Stan’s hand that held the soda.

“I could’ve never guessed you would be the type to get high.” He said with an amused smirk, getting the boy’s attention on himself.

“Wuh-Well, you duh-don’t l-look s-suh-such ah-a scuh-scaredy-cat.” He sassed, raising an eyebrow at Stan.

“Touché.”

He smiled, shaking his head before letting it fall against the trunk once again, his eyes never leaving the ginger boy’s warm ones. He raised his hand after fitting the joint between his lips, gently brushing his knuckles against the teen’s chin, then moving up to one of his soft cheeks. The ginger boy smiled, a wide one that actually reached his eyes, leaning into Stan’s touch.  
His hand fell down, right on top of the other teen’s hand, neither of them making an attempt to move their hands away, their eyes on one another, just enjoying their joints.

After a while of silent glancing between them, the ginger boy smiled and leaned over to Stan, softly pressed his lips to his cheek and thanked him for the “goodie” he had given him. He apologised for Stan’s fingers once again and grabbed his bag, getting on to a bag the teen hadn’t noticed before.  
The teen kept waving at him as he cycled until they couldn’t see one another anymore.

“Goodbye…” He awkwardly ended his sentence as he realised one huge problem: _Stan didn’t fucking know his name._

He face-palmed himself for being so stupid at the moment, that he _literally_ forgot asking the teen for his name. How could he be so mindless to forget learning something such an important thing about the person he enjoyed spending time with.

Then the realisation hit the boy: There was a chance that he might _never_ get to see the ginger boy again.

That thought terrified him enough to make him light another joint almost in a few seconds, smoking until he couldn’t even feel his head anymore. He passes out under the tree that brought the two teens together in the name of getting high.

A wide, warm smile was plastered onto the boy’s lips as he cycled fast back to his house, the warm pressure of those slender fingers lingering over the areas that the curly-haired teen touched on his face, making him feel even better than the joint he had gotten to smoke a few moments ago.

His head felt light, a warm but striking tingling sensation in his chest made him sigh with content. It felt like another kind of high he hadn’t yet discover, but he was more than thrilled to find out about.

He kept on cycling until he arrived at the driveway, getting off of the silver-painted metal bicycle that carried the same name as her colour, walking the remaining way on foot, entering their garage that his father usually worked in. seeing that it wasn’t occupied this time, saying Bill was thrilled would be an understatement.

The teen leaned “Silver” against the wall carefully, looking at his father’s untouched-looking work table that carried various types and shapes of wood on one corner of it, the unfinished table parts waiting to be pieced together on another.

He sighed, silently stepped inside the house as he looked around, continuing to walk towards the stairs when he saw nobody around-especially his little brother-, hurrying up the stairs to avoid getting caught but he bumped into someone at the top, the impact nearly sent him back down the stairs.

  
Bill groaned, raising a hand to it but all of his motions as well as his breathing stopped as he heard the person he bumped into cry out in pain. His eyes widened, his terrified gaze meeting with his brother’s. The boy’s face was scrunched up with pain but he still smiled brightly as he saw it was his big brother he had run into.

“Billy!” The small boy pulled his big brother in for a tight hug, making him freeze even more, the teen’s shoulders stiff under his touch.

“I missed you, Bill! Why won’t you play with me anymore?”

Georgie whined, pressing his face into Bill’s stomach. The teen’s frozen expression changed into pure regret as his hands subconsciously moved upwards to wrap around his brother’s small torso. But with the last memory of them flashed before his eyes, he shook his head and gently shoved the small boy’s hands away from him, gave him a forced, apologetic smile as he got up to step towards his room.

The small boy tried to stop his brother from leaving, but Bill ignored his calls and got inside of his room, locking the door behind him. And the moment he did, he let his bag slide down his shoulders and threw it across the room; he fell down on his knees and began to sob into his palms, his shoulders shaking violently.

He didn’t know for how long he had cried but by the time he was done, his vision was extremely blurry, on top of that, he had a severe ache that made all his veins in his head throb uncontrollably, his knees and hands trembling ever so slightly.

Bill struggled to stand up but he eventually managed, and walked towards his drawers and took out his pyjamas, changing as fast as he could as his stare darted between his bed and his door, trying to decide if he could eat something today or not.  
He shrugged, thinking maybe he could manage to have a toast or something light, started to silently walk downstairs.

The teen took a good look around and saw his parents and brother in the living room, relieved, he continued his journey towards the kitchen. He silently opened the drawer that had the bread in, took a slice and looked at it with slight disgust, sniffing it to get himself hungry enough to even take a bite.

His stomach wasn’t pleased with the teen’s act as it sent a wave of acidy feeling up his throat, making him silently gag and accidentally drop the slice to the ground, stuttering a loud curse in the process.

Another, quieter curse escaped his lips as he tried to silently put everything back to their original places, freezing in his tracks when he heard the footsteps coming towards where he was located at the moment. He closed his eyes as the light turned on, revealing him kneeling on the ground with the bread slice in his hand.

“Bill?” Sharon’s worried voice filled the teen’s ears, making him let out a soft sigh before opening his eyes, meeting the woman’s concerned gaze. Her irises lightened up as she was relieved to see her son instead of finding something else, the gentle look of her making Bill want to smile at her.

“Oh, honey,” She sighed, walked over to her son and helped him up, scanning over his body to see if he was hurt. “Did you want something to eat?”

“Uh… I-um… N-Nuh-Never mind.” He lowered his head to prevent himself from seeing his mother’s disappointed and worried face, flinching when he felt her arms wrap around his torso, tightly embracing her son.

“ _It wasn’t your fault_ , Billy. It wasn’t your fault, baby.”

The words his mother had whispered to him ripped out a choked sob from the teen, making him want to push his mother away and sprint back to his room, but her arms securely wrapping him didn’t let Bill move even a millimetre from the woman.  
So, he finally gave in and hugged his mother back gently, making Sharon smile weakly down at her boy.

“I’m going to take you somewhere that I think might help you. I hate seeing you like this, Bill. This _can’t_ go on.”

“W-Wuh-Where?” Bill got scared, not wanting to be taken to an asylum or somewhere worse.

“A group therapy.” She said, slightly pulling away from the hug to look him in the eyes.

“You can talk about your problems freely there and communicate with others of your age. And if that doesn’t help, you don’t have to go there again.” The teen groaned, making Sharon lift her eyebrows at him.

“Okay?” He sighed but still nodded anyway.

“Y-Yeah.”

She smiled and thanked him as she watched her son leave the kitchen. Her smile faltered the moment he was out of her sight, shaking her head she looked down at the piece of bread that had been left abandoned on the counter. Her eyes welled up, sighing as she cleaned the crumbs.

“It wasn’t your fault, Bill… It was our fault.”

_**(November 22 nd 1989)** _

The teen finished holding the paper into the boat his little brother wanted with his tongue peeking out from between his lips, his eyebrows knitted together with concentration. The small boy stood beside him was jumping up and down excitedly, a wide smile on his face, waiting his big brother work on the boat.

Bill reached out and stilled his little brother from jumping any more, a scolding frown on his face; he shook his head at Georgie. That frown made the small boy giggle before he stopped himself jumping.

“If you want to have a nice boat, you can’t jump like that. You’re distracting me.”

“Sorry, Billy.” The boy apologised, still smiling widely. “But I want to go out now, is it ready?”

“ _She_ , Georgie.” His eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

“What?”

“They always call boats ‘she’. And I’m almost done. You want her to float, yeah?”

Bill smiled as the small boy nodded with enthusiasm, signed the paper boat with his little brother’s initials before grabbed the wax and coated the paper with it, waiting a bit for it to dry.

He then turned back to his brother with a proud smile, holding her up to him, and finally gave the boat to Georgie who looked as though he was barely preventing himself from jumping up and down again.

“Thanks, Billy! I love you!” He shouted with excitement seething from his voice and jumped on his big brother, pecking his cheek.

“I love you too.”

“Are you sure you can’t come?” The small boy tried his luck again, but to no avail. Bill gave him an apologetic smile before pointing at the pile of papers on his desk.

“I have to finish my homework until tomorrow. Mrs A-hole will kill me if I ditch her work again.”

The usage of a “forbidden word” from his big brother made the smaller boy giggle loudly as Bill smiled at him, patting his head before giving him a Walkie-talkie, watching him skip out of the room.

He let out a concerned sigh as he looked up at the rainy weather outside. He stood up from his chair he had been sitting on, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip as he waited by the window for his brother to exit the house, waving at him the moment he did.

“Be careful.” He said into the Walkie-talkie, getting a giggly “Okay” as an answer.

He went back to his homework, placing the black device right beside him, waiting to hear even the smallest sound that could come from Georgie, his position ready to flee outside at any given. He had an uneasy feeling inside him that was chewing at his chest, not knowing the reason why making him feel paranoid.

Then he heard it. That loud, broken cry of pure terror and pain that screamed Bill’s name. And that very voice belonged to the young George Denbrough.

The small boy rushed out of his home, a wide smile tugged on his face, waving at his big brother that stood and watched by the window of bedroom, warning him to be careful through the Walkie-talkie he had given him before letting him go out.

“Okay!”

He giggled with joy, skipping until he was on the pavement of their house, raising his head to look at the grey-white clouds that crowded the sky. He smiled and crouched down to the small but still fast river of rain water that flowed right against the dirty grey kerb, letting go the paper boat Bill made for him.

The boat rocked right to left a few times before stilling then started to float steadily on the rain water that made her flow through, making Georgie to let out a chuckle of victory and jump down to the street, splashing water all around him in the process and began to follow the paper boat.

At first, little Georgie and the boat were going at the pace, sailing through the rain water that had the whole asphalt street covered. But with the force of the water, the boat started to gain speed, soon starting to float ahead of the small boy.

Georgie started running faster to try and keep up with her, failing to look out for any obstacle that could be lying on his way and bumped his head on the metal red warning sign that sent him falling down on his bum. The impact made him feel dizzy for a moment before he managed to stand up again, successfully avoiding the second one and kept on following the boat.

But his fall had made the distance between him and the boat increase a good amount, forcing the boy small boy to run even faster than before to try to catch up to her, failing doing so.  
And soon, the boat graciously sailed across the street and right towards a sewer drain.

“No!” He shouted at the boat like his tone of horror would make her stop, pushing himself a tad harder to catch it before she dropped down the drain.

When the tip of the paper boat got stuck at the edge of the entrance of the drain, the small boy felt hopeful, the beginning of a smile slowly forming on his lips. But that ghost of a relief smile quickly vanished away with the boat escaped from it had gotten stuck; the water picked it up and guiding down the drain.

“No! No, no, no…” He crouched down right before the drain, his eyes searching the sewer to catch a glimpse of the paper boat that was long gone in the sewer water already, perhaps still floating down there, perhaps already sunken.

“Bill’s going to kill me…” He mumbled, looking even deeper into the drain in dying hopes top spot the boat again stuck somewhere he could reach and pull it back out.

And the small boy was so concentrated on trying to find his boat, he didn’t hear nor see the old woman that owned the house before him open up the blinds of the porch of her house, looking down at the boy that was crouched down in front of the drain, furrowing her eyebrows with curiosity before going back inside. But her cat didn’t.

It just stood there, staring at the boy, intrigued by the boy’s flashy yellow raincoat. And of course, Georgie was still trying to find his boat, holding onto the smallest bit of hope that he had left, failing to notice the cat had been hissing at him from the porch of the house before him jump down and slowly approach him, its posture ready to attack after any sudden movements that could come from the boy.

“Oh no…”

Georgie sighed, finally accepting his defeat, raised his head at the sudden noise he had heard. There stood a cat closer than the small boy would want it to stand to his face, hissing at him threateningly.

He yelped in surprise when the cat launched itself at him, making him pull his hand out of the drain and scrape it against the top of the sewage drain, scratching the top of his right arm, he cried out in pain as he fell backwards into the rain water.

His non-injured hand reached for the Walkie-talkie and screamed his big brother’s name, trying to get away from the cat that had attacked him once again, starting to cry from the pure fright he felt, holding his arms over his face to protect his eyes from the cat’s merciless claws.

Bill was feeling paranoid about something he didn’t really know. There was a voice in his head that told him something bad was going to happen. He couldn’t concentrate on his work; he just kept re-reading the questions and tapped his pencil against the paper, nibbling on his bottom lip.

Then he heard it. That loud, broken cry of pain screamed his name, the teen wasted no time on throwing his pencil across the room and standing up, sprinting out of the room and unfortunately forgetting to take the Walkie-talkie from where it stood on his desk. He rushed downstairs where his mother was playing “Fur Elise” on the piano, shouting at her son to be quiet.

“I can’t be quiet, Georgie is in danger!” He shouted back at her, not even bothering to put on a jacket or even wear his shoes, he ran out like a maniac in just his short-sleeved t-shirt and sweatpants, his eyes frantically searching for his brother.

“Georgie!”

He called the small boy’s name a few times before spotting and seeing the boy at the same time, he ran over to him, seeing the cat that had been attacking his brother.  
He didn’t know what to do so he just kicked the cat away, trying to be as gentle as possible and pulled the shaking boy into his arms, starting to shush him to calm him down.

Pressing his lips on top of his head, Bill tried to sing a lullaby to calm the boy down, struggling because of the way his voice shook and stuttered as he spoke.

Rocking back and forth on his knees, he finally managed to calm Georgie down by the time their mother came and took the small boy from Bill’s hands. They hurried back home to get her coat and got into the car; driving away fast to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

Bill just stood there, completely frozen, his clothes completely soaked wet and his hair stuck to his forehead. He didn’t remember how he got back home or even showering. When he woke up the next day, he was in his pyjamas, two thick blankets on top of him, his throat hurting like hell.  
He was sick and needed attention. But because of what had happened to Georgie, he was completely invisible to his parents and left alone with his thoughts.

_It was my fault.  
I shouldn’t have cared about the homework.  
I should’ve gone with him.  
I should’ve been more careful and responsible.  
I’m the worst.  
 **I hurt my brother.**_ **  
** _It is completely my fault that Georgie got hurt_.

**_(December 24 th 1989)_ **

Until this faithful day, once the beloved and caring brother couldn’t look his little brother in the eyes again. Because whenever he looked at Georgie, he would remember the pure terror he saw in his eyes, and whenever the small boy spoke to him, he would be reminded of the way he screamed Bill’s name that day.

He never stopped blaming himself for it. But he did stop eating, he consumed only enough for him to not die of starvation. He got anxious about everything that his brother did and avoided him at all costs.

His parents sent him to therapy when they realised the state of their older son was in, but failing to realise that they acted too late. Perhaps it was a good thing that Sharon decided to try again. Her last resort to save her beloved son from his guilt that ate him alive.

And how he stood before the door of the office the group therapy was taking place in, his mother right beside him, looking at the teen with a proud smile, trying to help her son to relax a bit.

“You’ll be fine.” The woman assured him, patting his shoulders. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

“Muh-Mum, I-uh-I’m s-suh-seventeen. I cuh-can manage.”

“Whatever you say, honey.” She smiled and hugged her son before going back to the car that her husband awaited for them. They shared a worried but hopeful look, hugging one another as they watched their son enter the building, waving at him until he was out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked it, take a minute to comment your opinion on the writing as it helps out a lot for people to improve themselves about stuff they enjoy doing.
> 
> Thank you.


	2. It was our Past that brought us Together as One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the second chapter of "A Heart Never Lies". Stay safe, everyone. It really does get better once you leave the source of your problems.

Stan didn’t know how long it had been until he woke up from his uncomfortable slumber he had been having, furrowing his eyebrows and groaning as he straightened his posture, feeling a soft surface underneath him instead of the grass he remembered passing out on.

“Slept well, asshole?” He probably should’ve flinched by the sudden voice came out of the blue beside him but his only reaction was another grumpy groan and a swatting motion of his hand.

“I’ve never thought he would turn out _this_ bad…”

Another voice filled his ears after the first one, finally waking him up enough to actually see his surroundings, barely being able to make out the outlines of two figures before him. He was quite familiar with their voices so the guessing game wasn’t that hard.

Eddie and Richie stood before the teen that was trying to get the sleep out of his eyes, Eddie standing with his hands attached to the sides of his hips with a deep scowl on his face, Richie with an amused grin, looking down at him.

“Stanley, what the _fuck_ were you doing, sleeping under a _fucking tree_?” The teen scolded his friend before he pulled Stan out of the bed by his arm, sending him falling down on his bum, ripping out a surprised cry of pain from him.

“Eddie, you raging fucking gremlin…” He muttered as he stood up, finding the brunette glaring up at him. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding his friend’s gaze.

“…Sorry…” Eddie’s glare changed into a worried smile after hearing the apology, nodding his head with approval.

“That’s better. What happened to you?”

After that question, Stan suddenly remembered that neatly combed down ginger hair and blue-green eyes, being able to clearly picture the way smoke came out of his plump pink lips that he so desperately wanted to kiss like a stop-motion film. And because of how confused he was at that moment, he had gone for a cheek caressing instead. It was much safer than kissing the teen and possibly scaring away.

He shrugged after a while of staying completely silent and just smiling to himself, shrugging again when he met the questioning gaze of his two friends. And Richie being Richie, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and decided to comment on his friend’s high spirits as he turned back to exit the room, already losing interest on the topic.

“What’s up with ya smilin’ like a love-struck maniac?”

“What’s up with ya limpin’ like an animal got hit by a car?”

Stan mimic-mocked Richie’s fake accent and got an embarrassed glare from the teen before hiding his face in his boyfriend’s neck. Eddie smiled down at the dark-coloured mop of a hair that had nuzzled into him, wrapped a possessive arm around his waist before kissing the top of his head.

“You guys are so cute, it’s gross.” He commented, making the brunette smile up at the curly-haired boy. Richie spoke up again, this time his voice sounding muffled because of the way he was hugging Eddie.

“Homophobic fuckin’ Jew.” Stan rolled his eyes at the comment, shaking his head with irritation.

“Richard, for the last fucking time: I am _pansexual_. I _cannot_ be possibly homophobic.” His mouth lingered open for a few more moments after he was done, he decided better of it and closed it back and walked out of the room the three teens once occupied.  
Richie and Eddie both noticed he had more to say and looked at one another with questioning stares.

The dark-haired teen then shrugged and wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist before leaning in to kiss him. Eddie met him the half way and smiled into it before pulling his boyfriend towards himself from the back of his neck, deepening their kiss. Richie tightened his hold on the brunette and started to walk backwards towards the bed and let himself fall down onto the mattress with a grin.

He looked up at Eddie and made grabby motions with his hands as he raised his arms to hug his boyfriend as the brunette straddled Richie, pressing his crotch in-between the other teen’s widely spread legs. Richie let out a quiet moan when Eddie started to grind down against him, spreading his legs even wider for the teen.

_What was I going to say?_

Stan thought as he left the two boys alone, knowing damn well what they would be up to now, closing the door after himself. He already knew the answer but he wasn’t in the mood for accepting anything. He absolutely refused to love someone whose name he didn’t even know.

Perhaps “love” was a tad too powerful word for what he felt. He had accepted the fact that he had found the other teen extremely attractive, but _being in love_ with him? Or perhaps it was too soon to decide what he felt and there was a chance nothing could come out of them. But he knew one thing for sure: _He needed to forget him. He needed to forget everything about him before it was too late to go back._

His hand slipped down towards his jeans on instinct like he did whenever he wanted to forget something, he searched every pocket but he couldn’t find anything. Not even his fucking lighter.

“Richie, you fucking bastard.”

He took a step towards the room but then stopped himself, sighing as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He really didn’t want to catch the lanky teen getting fucked by his grumpy gremlin of a boyfriend again, deciding to get a coffee instead. The brand Richie and Eddie had really wasn’t what he preferred, but sometimes change didn’t hurt.

Taking the mug the his two friends kept for him, he waited for the water to boil, fixing some crooked piles of plates or mugs to satisfy his OCD to kill time, he smiled when he heard the kettle go off.

The smell came from the jar when he opened the lid was actually amazing and Stan couldn’t wait to enjoy it. He added the water with a slight frown since he concentrated on not pouring water all over the counter top and took the drink before stepping towards the living room of his friends’ house-he sometimes came and stayed with them for a few days whenever his father’s naggings got too hard to bear for the teen- and sat down on the red armchair he liked a lot.  
Eddie had bought that just for him and he knew no-one besides him touched the furniture. Even Richie respected that and stayed away from the chair, knowing he wouldn’t survive that kind of an apocalypse for now.

He carefully placed the mug on one of the armrests and leaned back, thinking everything that had happened to him to get him here right now. Firstly, being the son of his father wasn’t the easiest since the expectations from the man were high.

He was supposed to be disciplined, religious, a real man and homophobic. When the teen was the opposite of what his father had wanted, what the fuck was Stanley supposed to do? Pretend? He had tried that in high school and that brought him absolutely nowhere in the eyes of the man. A person could only take so much until they reached their breaking point. Stan reached that point when he was fifteen.

Lying on his bed, the young boy had an “open-minded” novel in his hands, reading through the paragraphs with curiosity and amazement. The opinions and harsh realities about the society that had been written down on the precious pages of the book were inspiring and made the teen question everything he had done with his life until then.

He had been the best son he could ever be to his father. Well, he _tried_ his fucking best to be. Take it or leave it.

But that peaceful reading session was cut short and the rest of his day(and some portion of his life) went sour because of one minor mistake made by his side. _He had left the door unlocked._ For the first time in _five fucking years_. It was such a simple mistake but it just _had_ to be that very day his father decided to check up on his son to see what he was doing, expecting to see the teen reading the Torah or doing his homework.

But, no. his son was doing something much more sinister and sinful than that. he was reading a novel that belonged to an LGBTQIA+ activist author(James Baldwin). And of course that was enough for the man to snap at his son, starting to accuse Stan for the things he hadn’t even thought of doing before.

At that moment, Stanley could’ve done two things. He could choose to take his father’s never-ending scolding and a few days of being ignored by the man. But being accused of such immoral behaviours and being threatened to be hit by Donald was just too much for him. So he chose his second choice. _He talked back_. Mistake number one.

That was the first move that slowly pushed the man to the edge of his non-existent patience.  
The second one was Stan admitting he might like boys as well as girls.  
And him being an atheist? Third fucking hit. That was the last drop to send his father screaming like a maniac as he walked towards the teen.

Stan got beaten up by his dad that day for the first time in his life. Not even the fucking Bowers dared to leave bruises that visible all around his body like Donald did. He knew he should’ve said something, even done something but he stayed silent and took it all for almost a year.

And during that nightmarish period of time, Stanley experienced and learnt some stuff that he really shouldn’t have.  
First one was the ability to wake up at every hour of the day no matter how tired the teen was.  
The second one was to be always on edge. No matter where he was, the boy was always paranoid that his father could pop out from anywhere and beat him up right then and there.  
The third one was the blessing of being able to lie at every given second. And they were quite believable.  
The fourth and last one was being able to find the weaker side of the person before him and use the information to get away from them.

But always being paranoid and tired had its own ups and downs. The teen was never the old Stanley again. After all that pressure and fear he was under, he began seeking for that something to distract himself from all the shit went on with his life and found a girl who had the worst fucking salvation for him possible. Weed and drugs.

The girl’s name was Beverly. That was one of the only things he had heard about the teen besides her father died some time ago from an unknown cause. According to the police officers that went to the crime scene it was obviously murder. Some even said that it was his daughter who killed him. But without any actual proof, nobody could find the culprit. Beverly was sent away to live with his aunt after the case got closed.

But they came back to Derry after only a year of living away from this shithole of a town. Stan didn’t know the reason they came back but the teen knew he wouldn’t understand even if he was informed of the reason, and now Beverly had become Stan’s dealer.

She wasn’t harsh or violent and she knew all about domestic problems, and she would sometimes sneak a few free joints to Stan with empty threats for him to not tell any soul about their secret deal; the two would always laugh at those times. The two even dated but it ended pretty quickly. They were too different and Beverly already had someone on her mind.

After that-exactly on his sixteenth birthday- his friends took him to quarry after a long time of neglecting their regular meeting location. He didn’t know just how visible his bruises were so he was he was extremely against to swim in the water of the quarry and even tried to get Eddie to be opposed to it as well. But ever since he had started to talk back to his mother, he wasn’t that same uptight and rambling kid anymore.  
So, with the inescapable forcing of the two-Eddie and Richie-, he was naked besides his underwear before them, bruises of nearly kind and colour scattered all around his skin.

“Stanley, what the fuck?” The two had exclaimed in synch and had started pestering the teen until he stopped caring and told his friends everything he had been going through; and thus born the origin of Stan starting to crash at his friends’ house every now and then whenever Donald decided his son needed “discipline”.

And that escape route had been even easier for Stan now ever since Richie and Eddie got together(officially) and bought a house to live together and get away from a control freak of a mom and two neglecting parents. It had been one year after his confession and Stan decided he had two saviours all his life up until that point.  
His friends and weed.

The second one was the reason why he went to therapy because Eddie would drag both Richie and Stan and would continuously rant about the consequences of their bad habits and how it could affect their mental and psychical health. Richie took his boyfriend’s ranting as his motivation and actually stopped smoking anything at all.

Whenever he felt the need to smoke something he would find Eddie and kiss his boyfriend instead of returning to his old habits. The lanky teen was _very_ determined and would achieve anything he wanted and to say the brunette was proud would be a _fucking understatement_. And that left Stan alone, the only remaining target of his scolding.

He first went to a therapist for the sake of finally getting Eddie to shut up and found out it wasn’t that bad at all. It even helped with some issues he didn’t know how to deal with-not that he would ever admit it out loud-. And towards the end of his half-successful recovery his therapist had decided that Stanley needed to express himself more to gain his confidence back. And what was the best way to do it according to the woman? _A fucking group therapy._

He absolutely _despised_ the idea. He didn’t understand what was so fucking perfect and miraculous about this whole ordeal but there he was, getting out of Richie’s black Ford(Eddie insisted they came to escort the teen), feeling the gazes of his two friends on his back all the way into the building.

It was pretty basic if you asked Stan. A considerable large room with a big circle of plastic, cheap chairs in the centre. He saw his therapist’s friend on one of the chairs but he didn’t bother greeting the man; he felt too grumpy to do so.

The moment he sat down on one of the chairs, he began to tap his feet against the floor, his icy glare spinning around the room, studying the non-existent details Stan wished existed to find something he could occupy his mind with. And after just a minute of waiting, he decided one thing: He absolutely did _not_ like it here. And just as he was in the process of convincing himself that nothing could change that fact, the door opened once again, revealing a too familiar redheaded-boy with gentle, wide blue orbs decorating a sharp-outlined face.

Both teen’s jaws dropped open as their gazes met, both carrying the same set of emotions on different faces: Happiness, shock, concern and… Love? Or perhaps it was just the relief of seeing someone you’re familiar with in a completely unknown environment. Whatever, who knew what it was? Stanley was more than happy to see the strange boy again and Bill couldn’t wait to talk with the other teen again.

He shyly approached the curly-haired boy and sat down on the chair beside him, giving him a small smile. Stan felt his heart jump at the sight; he looked absolutely gorgeous smiling like that.

“Hey.” Stan noticed just how gentle and happy his tone sounded, surprising himself with the news.

“H-Huh-Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” Stan was really curious as to what could’ve happened to make someone like him to come here?

“I c-cuh-could uh-ask you t-tuh-the suh-same question.”

“Well,” Stan said, not really wanting to reveal his reason right away but he was going to say it out loud in the end anyway. He smiled at the ginger boy, pointing around the circle they were in.

“We don’t need to say it right away. We’re going to find out sooner or later.”

“True.”

Bill nodded, speaking without a stutter even if it was technically only one word. Then the therapist spoke up, wanting everyone to say their names before they got started. The ginger boy started to chuckle subtly as the turn came closer and closer to the pair, turning into a full-on laughter when Stanley told his name.

“What is wrong with you?” The curly-haired boy asked with a wide smile, shaking his head as he listened the boy say his name.

“Only just learning what your name is _through a therapy session_ is funny to me, Stanley. Don’t mind me.”

Stan’s smile widened, deciding on not to comment on how the teen went through a whole sentence without stuttering once. They continued to talk by themselves until they had to “share their experiences”. And the moment Bill got asked that, his stutter came back.

He learnt two things that session. Opening up to the people you don’t know was far much easier then talking to the people closer to you. But that won’t help you at all. And the second one was very pleasing to Stanley. Bill didn’t stutter as much when he spoke to the curly-haired teen than to other people. It made him feel very special. And he wanted to make that feeling stay around for a long, long time.

***

The curly-haired boy fixed the collar of his baby blue shirt fifth time in just two minutes, making Eddie squint his eyes at his friend, still refusing to comment on anything. He wanted Stan to willingly tell him what was bothering him; he didn’t want to force him into it.

“Hey, Eddie,” Stan finally spoke up as the brunette was hoping he would, sounding a tad unsure of himself and turned to face his friend that was sitting on the bed, his legs criss-crossed, staring right back at him.

“Yes?”

He said; furrowing his eyebrows as the boy before him started to play with the hem of his shirt without tucking it in his shorts. That made Eddie even more curious. He watched Stan look around the room and peeked outside the door, flinching when Eddie spoke up again.

“Rich’s not here. You can spit out whatever’s in your mind.” Stan sighed as he stepped back into the room.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Figured that much.”

The brunette rolled his eyes, patting the space beside him on the bed as he dangled his legs down from the side. Stan slowly approached the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking like he was ready to leap up and run out of the room if he needed.

“Where’s he?” Eddie avoided the teen’s gaze with a slight blush.

“Out buying some stuff for us…” It was Stan’s time to roll his eyes.

“Okay, I don’t want to hear about your sex life.” Eddie shook his head as he glared at his friend.

“You were the one who asked asshole.”

“So, how did you realise you loved Richie?”

The teen froze for a moment because of the drastic and sudden turn the topic had taken, blinking a few times before combing his hand through his hair to fix the non-existed mess, patting down the part that was neatly swept to one side.

“Why do you want to know?” Stan swallowed thickly, pressing his lips together as he thought about a particular boy that never really seemed to leave his mind. Eddie sighed after his friend’s silence, patting Stan’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me, I understand.” He said with a sad smile on his face that made Stan feel bad instantly.

“I promise I will tell you if today goes well.”

“Can you _at least_ tell me what you’ll be doing?” Stan nodded with enthusiasm, a bright smile tugging onto his lips, fixing his collar before speaking up once again.

“I’m taking someone out on a date.” Eddie smiled brightly, hugging Stan before congratulating his friend.

“That’s great, Stan the Man!”

Both friends flinched by the sudden, loud voice that came from the door, making Stan roll his eyes once he had pulled himself together.

“Why are you here?” Richie narrowed his eyes at him, raising his hands.

“I fucking _live_ here. And my housemate aka my boyfriend is sitting right beside you.”

Stan sighed, nodding as he muttered an apology. Richie furrowed his eyebrows and put the plastic bag in his hand down to step inside. He silently sat down on the bed beside Stan, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s going on with you? You act weirder than usual.” Eddie slapped the back of the dark-haired teen, getting a whiny yelp from him.

“Richard T-”

“No, Eddie, he’s right.” Stan sighed again, shook his head and let himself fall down onto the comfortable mattress.

“I think I’m in love. Well, maybe not in love but I find someone very attractive.” Eddie smiled at his friend.

“Well, I find someone very attractive, too. And I’ve been dating with that person for two years.”

“Aw, Eds! You love me!”

Richie smiled as well, blushing at the boy’s compliment. Eddie opened his mouth to tease him but remembered that Stan was still with them, aborting his mission at last second, looking down at the teen.

“The problem is that I don’t think they feel the same about me.”

“Why don’t you find out?” Richie asked as he shrugged, raising one questioning eyebrow at his friend. “I mean, life’s too short to fear rejection. You can just find someone else, ya got tha’looks mah friend!”

“Said the person who waited five fucking years to make a move.” Stan spat, glaring up at the ceiling.

“After I made the official first move, of course.” Eddie added, shaking his head afterwards. “Fucking idiot.”

“Missin’ the point y’two!” He whined, getting the two teens’ attention back to himself.

“All I’m sayin’ is go kiss the fucker or hold their hand or somethin’. I don’t know.” He shrugged again and got up to kiss the top of Eddie’s hair, waving at Stan as he stepped out of the room.

“Go get’em tiger!”

Bill was tapping his fingers against the handles of Silver as he cycled, starting to slow down as he arrived at the park he was supposed to meet with Stan, not being able to hide his disappointment when he couldn’t see him there. But he knew the curly-haired teen wouldn’t ditch him, so he got off of the bicycle and put it against the tree next to the bench he was planning on sitting, taking a deep breath afterwards.

He checked his wristwatch and saw that he was nearly ten minutes early and sat down, taking deep breaths to steady his heartbeat before rubbing his face.

“Huh-He th-thu-thrusts his fuh-fists a-against the puh-posts, and s-suh-still insists he suh-sees the guh-ghosts.” He furrowed his eyebrows, repeating the same phrase over and over again, trying to get it right without stuttering.

“Fuck!” He was getting really irritated at himself since he had messed up again, messing up his hair with frustration. He shook his head, took another deep breath before trying again.

“He trusts h-his fists a-ah-against the p-p-posts, a-and still insists he suh-sees the g-guh-go-shit! Fuh-For fuck’s sake!”

“What are you doing?”

The ginger boy’s frustrated glare turned to something mixed between a surprised and embarrassed, sheepish smile, trying to fix the hair he had messed up when he got angry at himself as he watched the curly-haired boy approach him with an amused smile.

He sat down beside Bill and raised his hands to replace the teen’s hands with his own, combing his ginger/golden strands with his fingers, smiling down at him. Bill smiled back and looked down at his lap for a second before raising his gaze back, freezing by the piercing look of concentration he saw on Stan’s face, deciding to admire the teen while he was still occupied.

His curls had fallen all over his face as always, framing it like it was a piece of fine art. Which, it actually was. He had a thin-bridged nose that got a little pointy on the tip, the lips that Bill had admired for so long standing just beneath it. He had a sharp jawline and subtle cheekbones to complete his bony face structure.

And of course, his eyes. His fucking eyes. Bill was absolutely in love with them and maybe with more of Stan. At first look, the teen’s eyes carried a cold look on the outside but once you’ve looked at them enough, you would see the gentleness that lied in them just beneath the surface, the warm emotions floating inside the honey coloured irises surrounding his shining pupils.

He must’ve been staring for a long time since he didn’t notice Stan finish his task at perfecting his hair and placing his hand on his left cheek. When he was finally back on earth, he found that very gentle gaze focused on him, making him flinch subtly.

“What?” He sounded panicked which made Stan’s smile widen a tad.

“Nothing. I’m just happy that your absolute bird nest of a hair finally looks presentable enough. And what was that chanting about the ghosts? Can you see them or something?” He teased the teen before him, making his eyes widen and avoid his gaze.

“Th-That was n-nuh-nothing… J-Juh-Just suh-something I suh-say-” The boy cut himself off with a deep sigh, biting down onto his bottom lip.

“To help you with your stuttering?” Stan completed his sentence, getting a thankful smile from Bill.

“Y-Yeah, thanks.” Stan nodded as he stood up, pointing to his back.

“Shall we?”

The two teens had the time of their lives that day and more of their “dates” were to come. Stan started to spend more and more time outside and smoked less thanks to Bill; and Bill tried to(and succeeded) spend more time with his family and started to forget about his guilt.

The ginger teen wasn’t as shy with people as before and he attended his therapy sessions without ditching them. That resulted in his stutter getting better and he started doing that only when he was nervous or under stress. The curly-haired teen started to take his medicine and got actual help for his depression and PTSD, resulting in him being happier and more relaxed than before.

The boys were good for one another and their subtle teasing, knowing looks and not-very-subtle flirting went on for about a year or so until Richie couldn’t take it and wanted those pathetic interactions to end. He knew the boys loved each other and even if they didn’t, they still really liked one another. He could see that in their eyes, and that reminded him how they were before he got together with Eddie. He didn’t want his friends to waste any more time like they did.

And for Stanley’s eighteenth birthday, he talked Bill into giving him the best gift of his life. An actual date for them to go on. It hadn’t been the easiest task, but he had his boyfriend’s help and never-ending ranting that made the ginger boy finally give in and agreed to the lanky teen’s plan. But that meant extreme amounts of nervousness and stress for him, meaning literal stuttering in his every word he spoke to Stan until the teen’s birthday came.

“E-Eh-Eddie…” Bill nearly cried his friend’s name, making him groan and put his comic book down, glaring up at the teen since it had been the twelfth time he had called his name that morning.

“What the fuck do you want?” He jumped out of the bed and met the ginger boy’s scared-looking eyes.

“C-Cuh-Could you help me with my huh-hair?” Eddie’s glare turned into a playful smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“ _Just_ with hair?”

“A-And the outfit. I luh-like your taste.”

“Well, I didn’t spend all that time in the closet for nothing…” Bill heard the brunette mumble under his breath as he stepped towards his wardrobe, on a mission to make his friend look nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed, please do comment as they help out a lot!


	3. Was I Worth Your Love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead, things are slowly but surely escalating. Enjoy!

“Richie, you absolute fucking moron!” The curly-haired boy screamed at his friend as he tried to slip out of his pyjamas to start getting ready for his “birthday surprise” that the lanky teen completely forgot to wake his friend up to convince him to get ready to.

“You literally had one fucking job and you slept in? Fucking pray to whatever supernatural power you believe in that I don’t tell Eddie about this!” Stan continued to spit fire as he combed his messy curls to get them under control.

“Anything but that, Stan the Man! Literally anything but that!”

The teen cried, fake-pouting now but actually fearing what the brunette might do to him if he found out not only he slept in and as an addition to that; he told what was going to happen to get Stan to get his ass up from the bed.

“I can’t fucking believe y-no, wait, I actually can. You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah, I am. I am a fucking idiot, yes. But please, I’m begging you; _please_ don’t tell Eddie about this. My relationship literally depends on your words, Stanley!”

“Eddie wouldn’t break up with you over something minor like this. You really are a moron.”

Stan rolled his eyes, having already tried on a couple of shirts already, throwing the ones he didn’t like on Richie, and motioning the boy to fold them.

“If today goes well and I get a kiss from Bill, I’ll pretend like this morning never happened. But if it goes shitty, I’ll be enjoying helping Eddie with killing you.”

“Fucker.”

Bill was calmly seated on his desk’s chair, his eyes closed, Eddie behind him combing his hair with a comb and the hair spray he used for special occasions. And after a few final touches and fixes, he was finally satisfied with what he had done, stepping back with a proud smile.

The teen stood up and walked over to his mirror to examine his hair. Eddie had given him a subtle quiff that made his eyes stand out more, giving him a pleasant change from his normally down style he had been wearing for a long time.

“Looks nice, Eds.” He grinned and looked over at himself, nodding at his outfit. Eddie nodded as well, wiping off the sweat droplets on his forehead with the back of his hand that still held the comb, admiring his handiwork.

“Have fun. And I don’t want any kids, okay?”

“E-Eh-Ed-Eddie!” He blushed as he shook his head. The brunette rolled his eyes at him and finally put the comb down to push Bill towards the door of his room.

“Now, go. Don't fuck this up.”

The ginger boy turned to him with a frown, opening his mouth before Eddie pushed him again, motioning him to get a move on with his chin. The teen nodded with a smile and ran out of the house, grabbing Silver from the garage as he waved at his brother that was reading a book in the backyard and hopped onto it, cycling away.

Stan stood before Richie with a questioning look on his face, waiting for his friend to finish examining his outfit, raising his hands when their gazes met again.

“So?”

“You look good.”

He smiled, giving his friend thumbs up. Stan raised his eyebrows, searching for any traces of teasing in the teen’s eyes. Richie scoffed before standing up from where he was seated on the floor, moving forwards to hug his friend, giving him the first shock of his day.

“’m not teasin’ya today, Stan. This is a big day for you.” Stan smiled and hugged Richie back; patting his back a few times before they pulled away, both of them flinching with the doorbell chiming.

“Go get’im tiger.”

Stan nodded, exited the room and went towards the front door before shaking his head and went back to the kitchen to grab Richie’s half-drunk coffee mug, running back towards the door as it rang once again. He slowly opened the door and revealed the ginger boy with his hand still lingering around the bell. His eyes widened as he quickly dropped his hand down, a nervous chuckle escaped his lips.

“H-Huh-Hey.” Stan smiled, forcing himself to take a sip of the cold, bitter coffee _. Way to start the day._

“Hey. What brings you here?” Bill shifted his weight from one foot to another, making Stan smirk from beneath the mug.

“Uh-I wuh-wanted to w-wuh-wish y-you a h-huh-happy birthday.” Stan nodded, expecting more, furrowing his eyebrows when the teen stayed silent.

“Was that it?” Bill shook his head, pointing at the mug in Stan’s hands.

“I w-wuh-was waiting f-for you to f-fuh-finish your coffee.”

“And then?” Stan wasn’t even trying to hide his smirk anymore, resulting in Bill relaxing a tad. That posture change made the curly-haired boy to smile even wider, as he leaned over to the door frame.

“T-The-Then I wuh-want to take you s-suh-somewhere.”

The teen nodded, telling Bill to wait a moment before he went back to the kitchen and washed the mug after he poured the coffee down the sink, until he was sure it was clean enough, going back to the open door that had an awaiting teen beside it.

He smiled as he got out of the house and closed the door behind him, letting Bill guide him to his bicycle, motioning for him to get on.

“Can she carry us both? I don’t want to spend my birthday in the ER.” Bill had a determined look on his face as he got on Silver and took Stan’s hand to pull the teen towards himself.

“Damn right she can. And she’s fast enough to beat the devil, she’s a strong one.”

Stan didn’t push any longer as he nodded and got onto the bicycle with caution, wrapping his arms around Bill’s waist the moment he did, and placed his chin on the teen’s shoulder. He felt him stiffen up under his touch for a moment before relaxing into it as he tilted his head towards Stan’s face. He shook his head subtly and pulled away, starting to cycle away from the house.

They saw Eddie with his bicycle on the way and Stan waved at him, receiving a warm smile from his friend, feeling his lips twitch upwards as well.

“So, where are we going, captain?”

Bill just smiled, making Stan look up and admire the beautiful bow of his lips and profile as much as he could from the way his head was tilted at the moment. He shook his head, making his chin brush against the ginger boy’s shoulder a couple of times in the process, chuckling softly afterwards.

“Not telling me, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Asshole.”

They were heading somewhere familiar but Stan knew he hadn’t been here in a long time. He recognised the roads as they passed and the dirt path they were on right now, but everything felt so much more different than coming here alone or with his friends.

He tilted his head and looked up at the sky instead of the road then back down to trace the dirt path that led to the quarry, the sight making him smile with anticipation. Bill looked down at the teen, happy to see him liking where they were going, thanking Eddie from his mind.

They got off of the bicycle and he heard Stan gasp softly. He smiled and stepped towards the edge that held a blanket draped over it with a basket sitting on top.

“What is this?”

Bill didn’t reply again, but he moved to sit down on the blanket, patting the space beside him, rolling his eyes when he saw the teen take his shoes off before stepping onto it, motioning Bill to do the same.

“I prepared a picnic since Eddie told me you hated big gestures.” He explained with a smile as he took his shoes off, putting them aside. “I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

Their “date” went well with lots of loud laughter from the teens and stolen glances at one another. When they were finished eating, Bill turned towards Stan, now fully facing the boy with a nervous smile.

“I uh… I k-knuh-know y-you like watching buh-birds, so…”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence as he took out the last remaining object from the basket which was a square box that was covered with a shiny wrapping paper, giving it to the curly-haired boy.

“H-Happy birthday, Stan.”

Even though the teen knew this was coming, but it still mad him surprised, he slowly took the box from Bill’s slightly shaking hands with a warm smile, thanking Bill as he looked at the teen right in the eyes, pecking his cheek afterwards.

The curly-haired boy’s lips’ warm pressure lingered on Bill’s cheek as Stan carefully opened his gift, taking the black box’s lid off. His eyes widened as a small gasp escaped his lips with the things he saw in it, his jaw dropping open, the teen looked back up at Bill’s eyes.

It carried a large book that looked very heavy and had nearly ever bird species possible in it with their pictures and some information about them, a brand new binoculars and a metallic pen.

Bill slightly blushed at the other teen’s bewildered expression as he stroked his forearm with stress, waiting for another reaction from Stan. But when it came, it wasn’t what he was expecting it to be.

Stan grabbed the box and put the lid back on it then carefully moved it aside before reaching over to Bill and pulling the teen towards himself by his collar, finally getting to press their lips together. A content sigh escaped Bill’s lips as their lips finally collided with one another; he quickly leaned into Stan’s touch and his lips.

His hands trailed the curly-haired boy’ back down to his hips and pulled him even closer, starting to move his lips against Stan’s, wanting to feel more of him.

Stan silently let the teen pull him close and helped him by moving up to sit on his lap, his hands brushing through his hair as he opened his mouth to let Bill’s tongue in when he felt the teen lick at his bottom lip, sighing contently at the contact.

They pulled away after a while of kissing and gasped against their lips sharply, their eyes never leaving one another’s gaze, slowly coming down from their highs. Bill leaned in and pecked Stan before tightening his grip on the teen’s waist, nearly pushing their chests together.

“What was that for?” He gasped against Stan’s lips once again when the curly-haired boy shifted his hips over Bill’s, getting fully seated on his lap now.

“Don’t you already know that?” Bill nodded, pressing their foreheads together.

“I want to make sure I’m not reading anything wrong.”

“I. Love. You.”

With every word, Stan pecked Bill’s lips as if to make them more believable, more effective. Bill sighed happily, pressing his face into the teen’s chest as he hugged him tightly. Stan chuckled, wrapping his arms around Bill’s neck.

“I’m guessing this means you’re happy with that?” He spoke with a slightly uncertain tone that made Bill smile against his chest before looking up, nodding at Stan.

“I am. Because I love you too.”

And that was the last drop Stan needed to make another move, pressing his lips against Bill’s once again as he pushed his hips down, grinding against the ginger boy’s crotch in the process, making Bill moan into his mouth. He pulled away with a gentle bite into Bill’s bottom lip, the teen sighed with pleasure.

“I’ve wanted to do this. Since the day I saw you.”

Bill made a desperate noise as he grasped the back of the teen in his lap and reached over, pushing everything on the blanket away before making both of them fall down onto it, straddling Stan in the process.

He smirked down at the shocked-looking teen and placed his elbows on either side of his head, pressing their bodies together before starting to pepper Stan’s face with small kisses, making him chuckle like a toddler.

Bill pulled away enough to make it easier to look at the curly-haired boy’s face, admiring the view before him, loving the way he made Stan chuckle like that with a fond smile that caused the teen to blush under his stare.

“What?”

“You’re beautiful.” He blurted out without missing a beat, his smile widening as his one hand moved down to caress Stan’s cheek. The teen smiled back as he pressed his lips against Bill’s chin as he wrapped his arms around his neck, grinning up at him before starting another making out session.

They spent the rest of the afternoon with talking, bird sighting and making out. Once it started to get dark, they decided to make the most of it by swimming in the quarry, sunbathing as much as they could to the last ray of sunshine on top of the hill, the blanket underneath the teens.

Their gazes found one another before they linked their hands together, Bill moving closer to rest the side of his head against the crook of Stan’s neck, the curly-haired boy tilted his head to rest his head on Bill’s.

“That was the best birthday I’ve had so far.” Stan spoke, his chin bumping into Bill’s head a few times in the process. The ginger boy smiled and propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at Stan before gently pecking the teen’s temple.

“Then I’ll have to work harder and harder every year.”

Stan smiled brightly, shaking his head before he reached up and pulled Bill onto himself before burying his hands in the teen’s slightly damp hair, pressing their lips together.

Bill quickly caught up and kissed back as hard as Stan, his hands moved down to freely roam around the teen’s bare torso and stopped at his sides, starting to caress the soft skin there.

The kiss got deeper again as their tongues were added in, they sucked on one another tongues and bit their lips. Stan’s hands left Bill’s hair alone to climb down the teen’s back and grasped at his shoulder blades, feeling the muscles and bones moving beneath his palms.

They pulled away for air and Bill moved his lips down to peck Stan’s jaw, making the teen tilt his head back to give him more space to work on, quiet moans getting ripped out of his throat whenever Bill sucked or bit on his skin, shuddering under his hands on his hips.

The ginger boy moved his lips even lower after that, starting to suck on Stan’s neck and throat hard enough to leave bruises, grazing his teeth along his sensitive skin every now and then to make the teen moan, gasping himself when the curly-haired boy pushed their hips together.

Bill pulled away after a while of kissing and sucking on Stan’s torso, smiled and admired the bruises and teeth marks all along the teen’s skin, tracing them one by one with his fingertips before looking down at Stan who was a gasping mess.

“How far do you want to go?”

Stan’s answer wasn’t verbal. No, he chose to wrap his legs around Bill’s waist and grind himself against the teen’s crotch as he sucked on the teen’s neck and collarbones, trying to leave as much marks as Bill did, making him gasp and moan above him, shuddering himself from the teen’s hot breath right beside his ear.

Bill then pulled away from Stan and sat up on his shins in-between the teen’s thighs and placed his hands on either side of the curly-haired boy’s hips and moved them up and down all along his thighs and sides before smiling down at him.

“H-How do you want to-” He blushed, looking away from Stan’s hooded gaze on him, embarrassed by the thing on his mind even before saying it out loud.

“I want you, Bill.” Stan assured the teen before leaning in and sealing his phrase with a soft kiss on his red lips.

Bill stopped worrying after that reassuring and started to kiss down Stan’s torso and stomach as his hands continued to massage his hips, moving them down to his thighs with soft touches. It was a tad dark for Bill to see what he was doing clearly but he managed, guessing where he was touching just from the feeling underneath his palms.

He slowly but surely got closer to Stan’s hard-on and smiled, knowing that _he_ was the cause of it. He was the reason this beautiful teen was excited and aroused.

He pressed his lips against Stan over his damp boxers and got a consent sigh from above, feeling Stan’s hands grasp at his hair, brushing the stray strands away from his face. Gaining courage from the curly-haired boy’s positive reactions, he tugged onto the piece of clothing that separated him from touching Stan freely, making him spring free from its fabric prison.

It slapped against his stomach with a wet sound that made Stan grimace, slightly getting disgusted by it. But Bill wasn’t bothered a bit; he took the teen in his hand and started to stroke Stan lazily. The teen pushed Bill’s hand away as he shook his head.

“I want _you_.” He reminded the ginger boy. “I want us to have sex, Bill.”

The seriousness of the situation and they were going to do just came crushing down upon the teen when Stan phrased it that openly, making Bill suddenly think about his body and feel insecure about it. He thought it wasn’t presentable, that he wasn’t good looking enough.

He was aware that he had been in nothing but boxers nearly all day but being completely naked in front of the boy he loved? The thought was scary; he didn’t want to lose Stan.

“What’s wrong?” Stan asked when Bill remained silent for a while, furrowing his eyebrows with worry.

“N-Nuh-sh-shit!” He stuttered, giving himself away. And Stan caught up with it easily, noticing just how stressed Bill was, seeing it all around the teen despite the darkness.

“What’s wrong, Bill?”

He parroted as he sat up straight, fixed his boxers before he crawled towards Bill. The teen refused to speak up; afraid of stuttering again, he hid his face behind his hands. Stan didn’t force the ginger boy to speak; he just smiled and pulled him towards himself after lying down on the blanket once again, wrapped his arms around Bill and held his crying lover all night long.

_**(A Week Later)** _

“Are you sure?” Stan asked, not leaving where he was lying on the ginger boy’s bed as he watched Bill approach to him after locking his door.

“Yes.”

_Well, he didn’t stutter, that must be good news_ , the teen thought, slightly bouncing up and down when Bill climbed into the bed. Stan smiled at the teen as he crawled towards him, the ginger boy gaining courage from him and he smiled as well, pulling Stan closer to finally kiss him.

Stan let himself get pulled by Bill, wrapped his arms around the teen’s waist as Bill’s hands clutched to the collar of his shirt with a tight, perhaps a tad fearful grip, trying to get himself to relax enough to actually get in the mood.

The stiffness in his posture made Stan pull away with a concerned frown as he pushed Bill away from his shoulders as well, making him look up at his eyes.

“You look scared.” He sighed as he pecked Bill’s forehead.

“We don’t have to do this. _You_ don’t have to do this.” Bill sighed as well, shaking his head.

“Tuh-The p-pruh-problem is that uh-I want to.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Stan asked with a small voice as he caressed the teen’s cheek.

“I… I d-don’t wuh-want you to s-suh-see me and l-le-leave m-me.” Stan shook his head violently with wide eyes, cursing himself for not noticing Bill’s insecurity about his body until then.

“That’s not possible, Billy. _I love you_ , and I mean it. I love all of you. I love all of your flaws. You’re just perfect the way you are.”

Bill smiled, pressed his lips against Stan’s cheek and moved along his skin until their lips touched, giving him a grounding, warm kiss to thank the teen. Stan didn’t wait to kiss him back, returned his hands back to the ginger boy’s waist as Bill did the same.

Stan let his lips part and poked his tongue out from between them; it collided with Bill’s before wandering it across his lips, sucking on his bottom lip. He felt Bill shift his position and the teen’s tight grip on his collar softened without losing its force before he pushed the curly-haired boy down onto the bed, watching his lover fall onto his back with wide eyes.

Bill leaned over him and lied down onto his chest, teased Stan’s bottom lip and pulled back, watching the way the teen chased the touch of his lips but didn’t let him get what he wanted as he pushed Stan back with the hand he put over his chest. Stan groaned in frustration and grinded himself against Bill’s crotch, making himself gasp in the process.

“Let me kiss you, asshole.”

Stan growled before his eyes widened with shock when Bill came back onto him, this time much more forceful and bold, his one hand tangling between Stan’s curls as he pushed his tongue inside the teen’s open mouth, giving Stan what he wanted.

Grinding their hips against one another, they kept on kissing until both of them were out of breath. Letting their hands roam around each other’s bodies, they started to slowly peel off every piece of clothing they had until they had nothing but their boxers on. They sat on their shins, facing one another, their faces red with lust.

“S-So-”

“How do you-” They spoke at the same time and laughed at that for a moment, their awkward eye-contact lingering for more. It was their first time after all; no way it was going to be perfect. But they’d find their rhythm eventually.

Very slowly, almost cautiously, they leaned in and let their hands grasp at their hips. Stan pushed him down and straddled him, sitting down onto the teen’s abdomen with a sly smirk. Bill gave him a questioning look as he moved backwards slowly until he felt the back of his bum brush against the tent on the ginger boy’s boxers, he smiled, satisfied to have arrived at where he wanted.

He propped himself up on his knees and slightly moved backwards to adjust himself on Bill, he started to grind his clothed entrance against him, feeling his lover’s bulge brush against the curve of his ass, right in-between his spread open cheeks, ripping a broken groan from both of them.

“Tell me if you get uncomfortable.”

Stan warned before moving backwards a tad more now straddling the teen’s thighs, and then he got off of him completely. He gently hooked his fingers into the waistband of Bill’s boxers before pulling them down, his fingernails grazing over his hipbones in the process.

Bill hissed as the lukewarm air of his room collided with his arousal, his brain only now being able to process that he was completely naked under Stan’s lingering gaze on his body. He folded his legs and slightly moved his knees upwards, his hands hugging himself to make himself as invisible as possible.  
Stan shook his head as he grabbed Bill’s arms gently before unhooking them from his stomach, smiling down at him with a fond expression.

“You’re gorgeous.”

He backed away again and stood up on his knees as he peeled his own underwear off-teasingly slow- making the teen before him audibly gulp at the sight. He then crawled back on top of Bill, making sure to grind up against him all the way until they were face to face. He tilted his head and kissed his way up to the teen’s earlobe, taking the soft skin between his teeth and tugged on it, drawing a muffled groan from Bill.

The ginger boy’s hands grasped at his shoulder blades and trailed down to his hips, feeling the muscles all the way down and followed the curve of his ass to the back of his thighs, massaging and groping the meat of them.

“Where’s the lube?” Stan whispered into the teen’s ear, still licking and kissing his ear and neck, making Bill shudder as he pointed at the very bottom drawer of his nightstand.

The curly-haired boy finally released his ear with a smug grin as he crawled out of the bed and walked over to the nightstand, swaying his hips to put on a quick show for Bill. He opened the drawer and grabbed the bottle and a wrapper that had the condom they needed, walking back to the bed where his lover awaited him with hooded eyes.

He placed the items in his hand on the bed and lied on top of Bill before rolling them over and pushed him off of his chest before throwing the condom at his face, making the teen let out a yelp of surprise.

As Bill fiddled with the packet, Stan had already opened the bottle and got his two finger lubed up and rubbed them together before reaching down to his destination and teased himself with his fingertips, tracing the shape of his rim a few times before finally inserting a digit inside.

He gasped at the feeling all the while Bill’s hawk-like gaze watching his every movement. He didn’t know why but feeling his lover’s gaze on him even when his eyes were closed was a thrilling experience.

He waited himself to adjust to his finger and started to fuck himself slowly, adding two, then three fingers in with time, chanting and panting Bill’s name like a prayer all the while. But the patience of that teen wore thinner and thinner every time Stan moaned his name. And watching his lover’s fingers appear and disappear into himself wasn’t helping as his member twitched with hunger from between his legs.

Finally deciding that he had had enough, he took a hold of Stan’s wrist, wrapped his thumb and little finger around it, and massaging the teen’s palm with his remaining three fingers as he licked along Stan’s throat. His fingers trailed up and teased his stretched rim, making Stan whimper weakly.

“I’m ready, Bill. Please, do it.”

The teen would’ve loved to tease Stan for as long as he could take but he was as impatient as the curly-haired boy was, so he nodded and released his wrist and watched Stan as he pulled his fingers out, his mouth watered at the still-stretched entrance of his.

He quickly grabbed the lube and smeared it all over his covered member. He sighed at the friction, loving that he was finally getting some attention down there. Stan lied back down and spread his legs open as Bill watched him with a warm smile, revealing his most vulnerable places to the ginger boy without a second doubt.

He carefully lined himself with Stan’s entrance and sat down on his heels, grasping the back of his thighs; Bill looked up at the teen for the last permission and slowly pushed in with the enthusiastic nod that came from him.

The curly-haired boy took a long, shaky breath in as he shuddered at the painful stretch, hissing every now and then. A broken moan got ripped out from the back of his throat as he felt Bill sink even deeper within himself, his eyes welling up at the burning sensation he felt all around inside.

Bill stopped and leaned down to pepper Stan’s face with kisses all over, trying to distract his lover from the pain he was clearly in. the curly-haired boy held his hands out and Bill took the message, intertwining their fingers with a warm smile, his eyes searching Stan’s face to find any traces of pain.

When he couldn’t find any discomfort, he finally slowly bottomed out; a subtle sound of skin against skin filled their ears as he did. Stan took deep breaths in as he wiped his tears with one hand, looking up at Bill that had a blissful face above him.

“Are yuh-you okay?”

Stan waited for a while before he found the strength in him to nod his head, a love-struck smile spreading across his lips. He reached up and hugged Bill’s back before placing a firm kiss onto his collarbone, starting to slowly suck on the skin.

“Move.”

Bill slowly pulled out with a smile and held the teen from his hips before pushing back in, drawing a small moan from Stan. He let out a moan himself as his eyes found Stan and took a good look at him, feeling the same, raw feelings he had felt when he first saw the teen in the park, underneath that tree. An unapproachable-looking stranger with a joint between his fingers, blowing clouds of smoke from his pink lips.

Now, those same, pale cheeks were dusted with a nice pink colour, his eyes glassy and hooded with pure lust and his lips swollen and red from being kissed so many times, his neatly combed curls now damp with sweat, forming a perfect pool on Bill’s pillow. His long legs spread open, his blunt fingertips digging into his shoulder blades.  
He was beautiful. Perhaps the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

And he knew he couldn’t go slowly any longer, he felt like he was going to explode. So, in one smooth motion, Bill pulled out nearly all the way and pushing right back into him. Stan’s already parted mouth fell open, but his voice must’ve gotten wrecked since nothing came from him.

Bill repeated the same thing over and over again, his pace got faster and faster with time, finally finding and hitting the spot that drew a long, loud, tempting noise from Stan. His eyes widened with the continuous jolt that made him shudder from the inside out, making his long-abandoned member twitch eagerly against his stomach.

“B-Bill!” He moaned Bill’s name with pure bliss, his nails getting dragged along the teen’s shoulders and down his back because of the friction caused by his hips, marking his skin as his and his only.

“S-Suh-Stan!”

Bill agreed, feeling his mind cloud with both the pleasure and pain caused by Stan, thrusting into his lover again and again. He was able to find that sweet spot that made Stan come undone with nearly every thrust, making both of them pant and scream profanities and each other’s names, their hands roaming around wherever they could reach, re-exploring already seen territory.

The ginger boy stared down at where him and Stan were connected and watched as he dip inside and pull back out, ripping those heavenly noises from the teen every time. But he knew he wouldn’t last for too long; he could feel the burning sensation in his abdomen and his thrusts were stuttering every now and then.

“S-Stan, I won’t last any longer!” He cried out, moaning loudly as his hip bones slapped against the back of Stan’s pelvis, making the teen underneath him groan.

“M-Me too! Fuck, Billy-”

His sentence got cut off by a broken gasp as Bill paced up once again, hammering into his lover like a fucking sex machine, making Stan cry out sharply, broken moans of ecstasy spilling out from his wide open mouth, knocking the air out of his lungs.

“Bill! I’m so close, shit!” That was all he could form between his sharp inhales, tightening his grasp on Bill’s shoulders, digging his nails into his flesh, definitely breaking the skin there since it made Bill growl at the pain that sent jolts of excitement down his spine.

“Stan, fuck! S-Stan-”

The ginger boy’s moan cut off by the curly-haired boy’s parted lips closing onto his like a warm and wet blanket, their moans muffling inside of one another’s mouths, their teeth bumping every now and then because of the force of Bill’s hips. Stan gasped and reached down between them to rap a hand around himself, hissing at the pleasure that fogged his vision for a moment.

Bill moaned at the way Stan suddenly clenched around him, his hips stuttering as he felt his balls grow tighter and tighter, he couldn’t hold it anymore. His thighs shook uncontrollably as he screamed Stan’s name, burying himself deep inside the teen, long and deep breaths he took made his sweaty chest rise up and down continuously.

Stan couldn’t hold back either when he saw Bill’s expression as he came, moaning loudly when the teen pushed himself deeper than ever, coming all over his stomach and hand, shuddering at the delicious ache he felt deep inside of him.

The curly-haired boy licked his lips and closed his eyes, hissing softly as Bill pulled out as slowly as possible to not hurt Stan, rolled the condom off and tied it before dumping it in the wastebasket by his bed.

Stan held his hands out blindly to embrace Bill, gasping loudly when he felt something warm and wet lick at his tip, propping himself up on his elbows to see what Bill was doing. And seeing him on all fours as he hovered above his hips with a slight smirk made his breath hitch in his throat.

The teen winked at his lover before tilting his head down and teased Stan’s tip then sucked any liquid that managed to remain there, licking a wide stripe along his abdomen and belly, the white residue gathering on his tongue.

He continued to lick Stan’s belly until he was clean and he stood back, sitting on his heels and smiled at him as he savoured the sour taste on his tongue, chuckling when Stan groaned and let himself fall back onto the bed, rolling his head on the pillow.

“You’re disgusting.” He murmured and looked back up to see Bill not bothered by his remark one bit, staring back at Stan with his eyebrows raised. The teen rolled his eyes at that and reached down to touch his lover’s knee and tapped on it.

“Come here and kiss me.”

“T-Thought I was disgusting?”

“You are.”

Bill chuckled and rolled his eyes with a small smile as he lied on top of Stan, pressing his lips against the teen’s. Stan sighed contently; he parted the ginger boy’s lips with his tongue, tasting himself in his mouth.

Their lazy making out session continued on for a short while until the teens pulled away and Bill placed his cheek against Stan’s chest that was rising up and down slowly with every breath the teen took, his hand wrapped around his waist as best as he could.

“I can hear your heartbeat.” He smiled as he closed his eyes, focusing on the thumping beneath his ear.

“What does it say?”

The ginger boy waited for a while, listening to his lover’s semi-fast heartbeats as Stan placed a hand on Bill’s hair and started to play with it, smiling warmly at the softness of it.

“It says you actually love Richie.” Stan snorted with the unexpected answer, shaking his head fondly. “And his stupidity.”

“No, it’s lying.”

“Then, you don’t love me either?” Bill asked with a fake frown, looking up at the teen that was still playing with his hair with a fond expression that never seemed to leave his face. Stan grinned and nudged Bill’s head with the tip of his nose.

“I do.”

“Then, you’re the one who’s lying.” A smile lazily spread across his lips as he shook his head before pecking his temple.

“Yes. Even when I lie, my heart never does.” He sighed and remained completely silent for a while before nudging the teen’s jaw to make Bill look up at him. He had a serious expression in contrast with his smile from before.

“So, was I worth loving? Even though I lie?”

“Always.” He replied, smiling when Stan’s face lit back up.

“Having to meet you was probably the worst thing that has ever happened to me but loving you was the best fucking thing I had ever done.” Stan snorted before pushing Bill’s head back down with his knuckles, shaking his head afterwards.

“Asshole.”

The teens shared their first night together that day and there were more to come. And even after thirty years of being in the same house, seeing one another every day, their hearts never lied about anything, just continuing to beat for each other.

They were worth everything. Their high, their pain, their flaws were worth loving until the end. And knowing that made them even happier. They were the best thing that had ever happened to one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your time and reading "A Heart Never Lies". If you enjoyed, please take another second of it and press the kudos button as it helps and motivates the authors.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, please do let me know and I'll appreciate any comments about how I can improve my writing. Thank you!


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